The Park, Day 4

On Day 4 we awoke knowing we´d have to make up for lost time. We felt energized today, having gotten up at a reasonable hour and having bandaged our swollen, blistered feet. I had also asked Jorg to carry the bigger half of the tent for the last stretch, and it made a big difference in my pack weight.

Despite the first 4 miles being all uphill, we arrived at Refugio Dicksen early, and decided to break for coffee. Jorg was starting to crumble - his ankle the size of a grapefruit and his spirit the size of a pea.

As the coffee started to boil, Young - the German from Camp. Seron arrived, eager to join in on the coffee plus rum tradition Jorg and I had started as a way to break up the day.

Young decided to continue on with us, fearful of trekking through the infamous snowy, windy pass alone on Day 5 - the last day. And so we set a fast pace to Camp. Perros, which had been closed, but had a mongolian-like shelter in which we were looking forward to cooking.

After 8 hours of hiking, with 2 hours to go, it started to snow. My feet felt good, caffeine fueled my legs, rum numbed my blisters, and I decided today was the best day of the circuit. The forest looked enchanted as the snow lightly coated each of the beech tree´s branches. Just before we reached camp we came to a clearing, and a glacier, and a wind so powerful I could barely stand. Young was leading and had veered off trail - we were lost. The boys just stood there, clueless as to what to do. I knew we´d have to back-track - the last thing Jorg wanted as his feet were about to explode - so I volunteered to run ahead and check things out. I found nothing. We have to back track, I said, and luckily, within minutes, we had relocated our trail.

I discovered something about myself today - in the crazy winds, being lost, trekking through deep snow, I felt strong, I felt excited, I felt alive. I thrive in situations that challenge me - that force me to confront pain and solve problems.

By the time we reached camp we were cold and tired. Eating was a chore. We met an australian who had crossed the pass earlier, headed in the opposite direction. He had gotten lost and looked as if he´d just seen death. Good luck in the pass tomorrow, he said, as he crawled out of the mongolian dome and into his tent.

End of Day 4.